after the death of her mother, leighton's father sends her to a boarding school halfway across the world to be taught a lesson. she knows no one and no one knows her.
but the cherry on top is who her roommate is.
#2 in ptsdawareness
#2 in anxiety
#...
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I come to consciousness slowly, the first thing I notice is a dull throbbing in my head.
I open my eyes, but the light is too bright, piercing through my eyelids even when they're closed. My mouth feels dry, my body heavy and unresponsive.
I try to move, but my limbs feel like they're encased in chains.
I'm lying on something soft, and there's a constant beeping sound in the background.
I try to focus, but the effort makes my head pound even more. The beeping is rhythmic, almost hypnotic.
It takes me a moment to realize it's coming from a monitor, and that I'm hooked up to various IV lines and medical equipment.
Panic sets in as I try to piece together where I am and how I got here.
My chest feels tight, and every breath is a struggle.
My vision clears a bit, and I see the sterile, white walls of a hospital room.
The realization hits me like a sledgehammer: I'm in the hospital.
A hospital.
The events of the night rush back in fragmented memories—arguments with my dad, feeling overwhelmed, and then, I remember the pills.
I must have taken too many. I try to piece together the sequence, but it's like trying to catch fire with my bare hands. The anxiety grips me tighter.
A nurse enters the room, her face kind but professional. S
he's wearing scrubs and has a calm, reassuring demeanor.
She checks the various machines and adjusts the IV drip with practiced ease.
I want to speak, to ask her what's happening, but my throat feels too dry to make any sound.
I croak out a few words, but they come out as a barely audible rasp.
The fuck?
The nurse looks at me and smiles gently. "You're awake. That's good. How are you feeling?"
I try to respond, but no words come out.
My throat is parched, and my voice is barely more than a whisper.
The nurse notices and fetches a small cup of water, holding it to my lips. I sip slowly, grateful for the relief.
Water.
"What happened?" I manage to ask, my voice weak and strained.
"You...well...overdosed on some medication," she explains, her voice soothing. "You were found unconscious, but we were able to administer Narcan and stabilize you. You're going to be okay."
